


Jersey Number 8

by xKxDx (TheMortalSif)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comic, Digital Art, Fanart, Gen, Isaac Lahey Feels, Memories of Camden Lahey, Mentions of War, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, This Post Is Mostly Art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 00:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2289617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMortalSif/pseuds/xKxDx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You knew Camden Lahey, right?” Stiles asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jersey Number 8

“You going to the barbeque Sunday?” Agent McCall asked as he scanned and signed a pile of incident reports Jordan was waiting to file. 

“I’m not sure,” Jordan answered. He wasn’t, but he also didn't like the guy much and he didn’t want to make small talk. Jordan busied himself at the computer, hoping the phone would ring or something, soon. 

“I know it’s not easy for guys like you this time of year, but we would really like you to come,” Agent McCall said quietly. He paused, his pen hovering, waiting to sign until Jordan gave him some kind of response. 

“Thanks,” Jordan said, momentarily disarmed by Agent McCall’s earnest, concerned expression and invitation. “I’ll try to come, I might have plans though, with the guys,” Jordan said, hoping Agent McCall would leave it alone. He didn’t have any plans. Like most of the veterans he knew, he planned to lay around and watch television all weekend, avoiding the happy community gatherings, thankful for the paid holiday.

Agent McCall nodded and went back to signing. A few long, silent minutes later, Stiles came through the front door of the station with his backpack on. He didn’t usually carry it, and it reminded Jordan how early it was in the day still. Jordan glanced at the clock to make sure it was after school hours, and Stiles wasn't skipping again. School had only been out for ten minutes, and it took twenty to get from there to the station with no traffic. There wasn’t much Jordan could do about it except scowl in disappointment. 

“Mr. Stilinski, taking the day off early again? I can’t imagine that’s doing your GPA any favors,” Agent McCall said without looking up from his paperwork as Stiles leaned over the front desk to see what Jordan was doing on the computer. 

“Nice to see you to Rafe,” Stiles said with an irritated edge in his voice. It was a particularly amusing, flippant tone that he seemed to only use when talking to Agent McCall. Jordan smiled up at Stiles, not caring anymore that he skipped out early. “Do you have a minute?” Stiles asked Jordan. 

“Sure, let me --” 

“Does your father know you left math class early? Is Scott with you?” Agent McCall interrupted. He picked up the stack of incident reports, tapped them on the counter to straighten them, then handed the pile to Jordan. 

“You know what, Gigantor, you can just lay off. I have an A in math, and so does Scott. So, you can take your drop-in parenting and shove it --” 

“Stiles!” Jordan said loudly, cutting him off before the inevitable cascade of profanities came tumbling out. It wouldn't be the first time he'd watched Stiles melt down, but it wasn't going to happen right at the front desk of the station, not if Jordan could help it. Stiles looked over at him sharply, but his face fell quickly, probably realizing how pissed his dad would be if he cussed out a federal agent a few feet from his dad's office. 

Agent McCall watched Stiles glower silently for a moment, completely unphased. Surprising both of them, Agent McCall nodded his head in approval. “Good, I’m proud of you. Keep it up,” he said. Graciously, he walked away, glancing back at Jordan, giving him a nod as he went out the front door. Jordan raised his hand and nodded back, disliking the guy a little less, but still not completely on board. 

“I fucking hate that guy,” Stiles hissed out under his breath. 

Stiles was more than a little edgy and unpredictable lately, but Jordan couldn't blame him. He was impressed Stiles kept his grades up through all the shit he dealt with. It had been quiet lately, and obviously, Stiles had taken full advantage of it. There was also a good possibility that Stiles had to stay busy to keep from going crazy. A circumstance Jordan was very familiar with, as well as being erratically edgy and irritated.

“What’s up?” Jordan asked, tapping his fingers on the desk to get Stiles’ attention.

Stiles looked up at him and sighed pointedly before starting in on his reason for being there, knowing Jordan would commiserate his dislike of McCall. “You knew Camden Lahey, right?” Stiles asked. 

The name Camden Lahey hit him like a kick to the chest. It took him a moment to ask himself the obvious question, then Stiles. “How do you know that?” disbelief thick in Jordan's voice. Predictably, Stiles’ mouth dropped open as he considered how he was going to explain himself. Jordan could see the gears moving behind his eyes. He hadn't known Stiles for very long, but it was long enough to know what that look meant. “Forget it, I don't want to know,” Jordan said quickly, certain whatever Stiles was going to say would be incriminating, or a lie. 

An apologetic frown flashed over Stiles face, before he pulled his backpack off and dropped it on the desk. He opened the front zipper and dug in, sifting books and papers around. Whatever it was, Stiles was going to show him instead of tell him, which made Jordan even more nervous. 

Some names Jordan didn't mention because no one here had any context for them. He was an outsider. All his stories revolved around people no one here knew, but Camden Lahey was a name he had never mentioned because of the pain it would inflict upon everyone who remembered him. He didn’t want to be a reminder that Camden never came back. 

Sometimes he regretted never telling Isaac, but he and Camden hadn’t know each other for long before he died. Their units had been stationed together in Afghanistan. Camden was a driver and a scout, running point and security for Jordan’s unit as they cleared minefields and investigated reports of IEDs outside Sangsar. They had just started working with the local military, teaching them to do the job so the American troops could leave, when Camden’s truck was hit by an IED, killing everyone but the gunner. 

Camden was smart, and he was good at his job. It was his second tour of duty, but he still smiled and laughed, joking around and making the best of things, like it wasn’t the middle of a war zone. He acted more like they were away at camp for the summer. Jordan asked him one time how he kept himself happy when everyone else was miserable and worn the hell out. Camden said that he liked his job, and he couldn't imagine doing anything else. He felt useful, and his dad was proud of him. Jordan wanted to think Camden’s answer was corny and dumb, but he wished he could have the same conviction and strength of character Camden so easily owned. 

Usually it was stupidity or carelessness that got you killed on mission, but Camden wasn’t careless. He taught other people how to do their jobs right, he took pride in his work, keeping everyone safe. He kept himself and his truck alive for a year and a half in the deserts of Afghanistan before bad luck finally caught him. When Camden’s truck didn't come back, it hit the rest of them hard. They were all brutally reminded that even the best of them would only survive their tour of duty by the grace of god and luck, alone. 

“You know, the game on Monday?” Stiles asked, pulling Jordan back to the present. He looked up at Stiles, taking in the folded up maroon tee shirt under his hand on the desk. Jordan nodded, the game was on Memorial Day, which was odd, but the school decided to make an event out of it, in light of all the recent losses. “A bunch of people are wearing jerseys to the game, old jersey’s. Family and freinds that played for Beacon Hills. Not just LaCrosse, you know, like basketball and stuff too...” Stiles trailed off, his fingers tightening on the tee shirt like he wasn’t sure he should keep talking. 

“I get it, that’s cool,” Jordan said, hoping Stiles would get to the point. 

“Well, Isaac left all this stuff at Scott’s house. I think he’s planning on coming back someday, but -- anyways, Scott called him and asked if you could have this. Isaac said it was okay. He wanted you to have it, but only if you’ll wear it,” Stiles spouted off a bit too quickly. Then he pushed the tee shirt at Jordan and let go, like it might bite him. 

Jordan picked the shirt up and unfolded it. The front said ‘Beacon Hills’ with a big eight underneath. The back said ‘Lahey’ with the same number. It was Camden’s number. Jordan remembered the tattoo on Camden's shoulder, asking him what it meant, but it wasn't a jersey. It was a game day tee shirt, like the ones kids wore in school when they weren’t allowed to wear their jerseys to class. 

“I don't know Stiles, isn’t there someone else who wants this? He has to have family, or friends here that knew him better than I did?” Jordan asked, not wanting to take that kind of gift away from someone more deserving. 

“No, his family’s all dead or gone, and his friends, they all -- they’re dead too.” A hopeless, bitter edge crept into Stiles voice. He dropped his hands to his sides and ran them nervously over the pockets of his jeans before hooking his thumbs and waiting for an answer. 

The news should have shocked Jordan, but it didn’t. It couldn’t, not in this town. He considered the facts, then he thought about how much he missed Camden. Even though they hadn’t known each other long, they spent a lot of time together, and Jordan had always been thankful for Camden's friendship. 

If it was a jersey, he would have said no, but Isaac had rightfully kept that. “Okay, I’ll wear it. Thank you,” Jordan said. He folded the shirt over and pushed it to the edge of his desk, not quite willing to completely accept it yet. 

“Cool, I’ll let Isaac know,” Stiles gave him a quick half smile and picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. “I gotta go to practice, but you’ll be at the barbecue Sunday, right?” 

“Yeah, I will,” Jordan nodded, deciding right then, maybe he didn't have anything better to do. Stiles grinned and backed toward the door. Jordan raised his hand, stopping Stiles before he walked out. “Hey, can I wear this to that too?” Jordan asked. 

Stiles leaned on the door with his hand and shrugged. “It’s yours dude, wear it whenever you want,” he said. 

“Right, thanks,” Jordan smiled, feeling foolish for asking permission. Stiles grinned and waved as he ducked out, in a much better mood than he showed up in. 

Picking up the shirt again, Jordan held it up and turned it over. He decided to ask the Sheriff about Camden, and what happened to his family and friends. He had a reason now, Camden wouldn't be a secret anymore. He always assumed there was dozens of people left to miss a guy like Camden Lahey, but there were never any guarantees in a place like Beacon Hills. They were all still alive by the grace of god and luck, alone. 

[Tumblr Post](http://xkxdx.tumblr.com/post/97220631530)  



End file.
